My Guardian Demon
by Harib0fizzz
Summary: *SUPERNATURAL AU* Damn them. They can burn in hell for all I care. His mother's book of spells had always peaked his curiosity, and now he found an even more interesting one. One to summon a Demon. (FrUK). Rated T for language and possible implied themes (not sure yet). *fail summary*
1. You called?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (or Supernatural)!**

**Summary: Damn them. They can burn in hell for all I care. His mother's book of spells had always peaked his curiosity, and now he found an even more interesting one. One to summon a Demon. **

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**Chapter 1**

Arthur was roughly shoved to the ground, the jagged pavement cutting his knees mercilessly. The boy bit his lip to prevent his cries of pain, bowing his head so they would not see his tears. Unfortunately, another boy grabbed his dirty-blonde hair, yanking it upward harshly until Arthur was forced to look at him. The smirking face of Alfred F. Jones greeted him, a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

"What's the matter, Artie?" he sneered, pulling Arthur's head up towards his own. "Don't you find this fun?" his American laugh had a cruel, dark edge to it as he let go of Arthur's hair, pushing him down again. Arthur choked back the sobs as his scalp burned from the pain of his hair being tugged so viciously. He looked around desperately, dismayed to see that no one was in sight, despite Alfred hurting him so badly in plain sight, just around the corner from school. He guessed people did see, but were just turning a blind eye.

_Damn them._

_Fuck them._

_They can burn in hell for all I care!_

A sharp pain to his chest pounded him back to reality as Alfred punched him in the stomach. Arthur doubled over in pain, cursing Alfred for doing this to him. He had done nothing wrong, yet he had been bullied by this boy for most of his school life. He received a few more hits and kicks, Alfred even standing on Arthur's fingers as he tried to get up. The American boy shoved him roughly against the wall, before laughing and running off, leaving Arthur bloodied and bruised. He stood slowly, feeling as though his guts would spill out if he stood up fully, so he wiped the tears and blood from his face, wincing as he brushed his cheek. Arthur collected his school books which had been thrown from his bag when Alfred first pushed him over, and began the walk home.

At times like this, he was thankful he was the only person living in his house. His parents had passed on many years ago, though he never found out how or why. None of his relatives offered to take care of him, either openly rejecting him by saying he was the "bastard child of two cursed sinners", or politely making other pathetic excuses. It was true; his parents hadn't married, and so he was born into a family already marred and judged. It also happened that his mother was apparently a 'witch', as whoever crossed her path and got on the wrong side of her would suffer an illness or sometimes even death. Arthur was never told much about his father, but from the sounds of it, he wasn't a popular figure either. In fact, the only ones who dared to even come close to Arthur were a young woman living a few minutes away, called Elizaveta, who actually had ceased her frequent visits since the townspeople began judging her as well. Of course, the other person was Alfred, who felt it necessary to prove his high status by punching the shit out of guys who had already had a lot of judgemental crap in their lives. Arthur pretended not to notice the glares and disapproving looks he received as he walked up the hill to his house, which was conveniently placed on the highest point of the town, right on the outskirts so everyone could see it.

_My parents certainly weren't doing anything to stop these people thinking there was something unholy about them…_

The house was more of a mansion really; it was far too big for a teenage boy living alone. But he wouldn't trade it for the world. Each part of the house meant something to him, and although he never really knew his parents as they died when he was young, Arthur felt they still had some sort of connection with this place. He reached the house and opened the door, never bothering to lock it due to the superstitious old goats below being too afraid to even approach the hill, let alone the house. Dumping his school-bag in the modernised kitchen, he went straight down the stairwell t the basement, immediately shedding his coat and shoes, putting on his most-favoured dark-green cloak instead. Rage filled his mind as he ached all over, mixing some herbs together to create a healing remedy for his cuts and bruises. He scoffed to himself as even these small medical practices could be classed as 'witchcraft'.

_How little those fools know. _

A few years ago, Arthur had found an old spell book among his mother's possessions in this basement, and was instantly curious. After that, he had deciphered and performed a few spells to see if the book was genuine or not. Some had failed, mainly because he'd said the incantations wrong, but a couple had been at least half-way successful. One in particular was for summoning a creature to be your familiar, but instead of summoning a black cat like Arthur had expected to conjure, a small, flying green creature much resembling a rabbit had appeared. To his amazement, Arthur could understand it, and she had told him her name was Flying Mint Bunny, and that she had been a good friend of his mother's. Since then, the two had become good companions, and Mint (as he had nicknamed her) was almost always seen flying around Arthur's head or sitting quietly on his shoulder making sarcastic comments about the townspeople. Arthur found this highly amusing, as he discovered that the others could not see or hear Mint, so she was making fun of them and saying how stupid they were, and if a comment was particularly good, he would repeat it out loud just to annoy them.

Now, Mint was flying around his head, seething about Alfred as she had developed a protective side to Arthur over the years. Of course, she had known him since he was born, but Arthur had not known of her existence until he summoned her.

"_That big oaf! Who the hell does he think he is?_" Mint demanded, circling the room and knocking a few books off the shelf accidentally with her wing.

"Careful, Mint…" Arthur warned, picking the books up and putting them back on the shelf. She made a small noise of apology and slowed down, settling on his shoulder instead. Arthur climbed up on a small, wooden stool to reach an old, thickly-bound hardback book, grimacing slightly as he lifted it down and placed it on the little workbench that was beneath the shelves. Mint gave a small noise of approval.

"_What are we going to do him? Make him lose all his strength? Make his hair fall out?_" she asked eagerly, but Arthur ignored her, leafing through the old spell-book until he stopped on a page and his eyes lit up with a strange determination and curiosity.

Mint looked at the page. "_…Arthur, are you being serious?_" she asked, the excitement gone from her voice and replaced with dread.

The boy only shrugged. "It's not like it's going to work anyway…" he justified as he began reading the incantation in his head first. Something about this particular summoning made Mint very anxious. Arthur's mother had tried this spell before him, and Mint couldn't tell what happened next as she was dismissed and cast back into the prison that was the words of the spell she was summoned from. When she finally found her way back, not only Arthur's mother but Alfred's father had both changed. Shortly after, they mysteriously died.

The green bunny landed on the page Arthur was trying to read, blocking his view of the words.

"_Don't do it_." Mint pleaded, and Arthur studied her small features.

"Why not? It's only to summon a demon. I'm not even sure if they exist." He responded, and Mint flapped her wings at him in a frantic manner.

"_I came from this book, and I exist!_" she all but cried, begging Arthur to reconsider. But his green eyes burned with the thought of taking revenge on Alfred, and uncovering more of the spell book's magic. Arthur gently brushed Mint off the page, drawing a pentagram on the floor in chalk as accurately as he could, placing already used before candles at each of the points. Mint watched him with fear, knowing there was nothing she could physically do to stop him. Grabbing the book, Arthur stood ceremoniously with the pentagram before him, and read the incantation aloud.

Nothing happened for a moment, and Arthur breathed out, turning to put the book down.

"See, Mint? What did I – "

Suddenly the electric light which was hanging above the pentagram broke, the glass shattering on the floor. Arthur's breath hitched as the candle flames were blown out by some undetectable wind, and all was silent. The teenager heard a quiet, unfamiliar laugh behind him and spun around to see a man dressed all in black; a clingy, black shirt a young man might wear to interest the ladies, with tight jeans and blonde, wavy hair that was tied back with a matching black ribbon. There was a patch of stubble on his chin and he looked at Arthur with startling blue eyes.

"You called?" his voice was heavily laced with a French accent, his tone mocking and mildly amused.

Arthur took a step away from him, hardly believing it worked. "Y-You're a demon?" he asked, making the stranger roll his eyes.

"_Non_, I'm the Easter Bunny. What the hell does it look like?" the demon straightened up from where he had been casually leaning against the wall, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently.

Arthur frowned a little at the demon's behaviour, before looking around for his trusted little companion. "Mint?" he called, but he couldn't see or hear her anywhere.

"If you mean that cowardly little flying pet you have a fondness for, she has been sent back." The demon sounded almost bored. "Now, Arthur Kirkland, why did you summon me?"

Arthur stared at the demon. "H-How did you know my name?" he asked defensively, cursing himself for stuttering a little, but the sheer aura of the demon was intimidating.

The demon smirked, merely shrugging and sitting casually on the workbench, his legs crossed and propping himself up with his arms behind him. "I know everything there is to know about you." He replied simply, as if it were obvious, adding a little more with a mocking grin. "Actually, I know more about you than you do about yourself."

Arthur could see in the demon's expression that he knew something about the Kirkland family. Perhaps something about his parents. "Who the hell are you?" he almost growled, clenching is fists as he didn't like to be mocked or belittled, especially by a stranger.

"You can call me Francis." The demon introduced himself. "Now, do you want to make a deal or not?" he challenged Arthur with mischievously sparkling blue eyes.

Arthur hesitated, all thoughts of Alfred having flown from his mind at the prospect of finding out more information about his family. After a few moments, he nodded, and Francis seemed to look pleased that he didn't back down.

"You realise the price_, oui_?" the demon asked, uncrossing his legs and standing up slowly.

"…My soul, if I'm correct." Arthur answered with more confidence, knowing he would probably regret this later.

Francis nodded in confirmation. "_Et_ what is the deal you wish to make?"

There was silence for a brief moment, before Arthur responded.

"My soul…for all the information about my parent's death."

"Is that all?" the demon had been advancing slowly towards Arthur while he was confirming the deal, and now stood in front of him directly.

"Yes." Arthur replied, growing uneasy as a small grin played on Francis' features.

"Deal~" Francis leaned in and connected his lips with Arthur's.

He would've pushed Francis away immediately and yelled a stream of curses at him if he hadn't known that this was the equivalent of a handshake to demons. Before Arthur could debate whether to kiss back or have no reaction, Francis pulled back, his irises now turned black along with the whites of his eyes.

Arthur was trembling slightly, shocked at what he had just done and from the glimpse of Francis' demon form. Francis stepped back, leaving the teenager wavering on his feet slightly, gesturing to the pentagram the demon had been trapped in the entire time.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind…" he said, and watched with amusement as Arthur nodded and broke the pentagram by smudging the chalk with his foot, seeing a blush on the teenager's young features. Francis stepped out of the summoning pentagram and stretched as if he's just woken up from hibernation.

"Finally~" he breathed, smiling as he took a chance to walk around a little. Arthur watched him with slight confusion as the demon turned to him. "What? You have no idea what it's like to be confined to Hell for a few centuries."

"Centuries?" Arthur asked, pulling up a chair to sit down, curious about Francis.

"_Oui_. I have only recently been released~" he stated, sitting back down on the workbench.

"Released? From what?" Arthur's expression grew more inquisitive, and the demon sighed, clearly amused.

"So many questions~" Francis smirked, his tone almost playful. "Maybe I'll tell you another time, _mon âme_~"

The demon rose from his seat, adjusting the ribbon in his hair before turning to Arthur. "But now, _mon cher, _where do you want to begin?"

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**A/N: Okay so, wasn't sure what to list this as but I hope "Supernatural AU" sufficed. I haven't written any SPN fanfiction before so this is ½…¼ of my first in a way.**

**_mon âme - _my soul (all French from Google Translate so don't kill me if it's wrong please!) O.o**

**Anyway, please review if you want me to continue this or if it's a lost cause and I should just go and dig a hole to lie in. ^,^**

**Thanks for reading~ **


	2. Et Vocavit Vitae

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (or Supernatural).**

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**Chapter 2**

Arthur eyed the demon suspiciously. In truth, Francis did not look very intimidating or evil like the teenager had originally expected: Arthur had thought demons were repulsive with horrible deformities and a deep, unearthly, gravelly sort of voice.

But Francis was quite the opposite.

He looked like a normal human being, with soft, unmarked skin and blue eyes that sparkled mischievously. His wavy, almost golden hair was tied back simply, and he only wore a smirk as he waited for Arthur's answer. The only clue that Francis even _was_ a demon was the blackness of his eyes when they sealed the deal. Other than that, there were no hints.

"Well?" the teasing French accent broke Arthur out of his thoughts, and he snapped his head up, glaring defensively.

"Well _what_?" he demanded, making Francis raise an eyebrow, chuckling.

"Where do you want to begin, _mon cher_?" the demon repeated, slowing each word down and emphasising it like he was talking to a child.

Arthur flushed with embarrassment: the question had been forgotten when Arthur began to realise how 'normal' Francis looked.

"Oh…uh…" Arthur had no idea where to begin chipping away at such a huge, old surface, and he could tell from Francis' smirk that the demon was reading him like a book.

The demon let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair and loosening the ribbon so it fell into his hand, his blonde locks falling into his face a little.

_God, he looked like such a girl._

"It's just my luck to be bound to a stupid little boy as soon as I'm free…" he whined, hiding the smirk that appeared as he saw Arthur's reaction to being called a "stupid little boy".

"I am not stupid! And I'm seventeen years old, not a "little boy", you bloody git!" Arthur snapped, hating people to underestimate him and especially disliking being called a "boy".

The demon seemed unfazed, however, only laughing at him. "Oh my, what a defensive one~" he teased, making Arthur clench his fists. "_Et_ grumpy too~" Francis added, and Arthur's restraint shattered.

"Grumpy? What a pile of shit!" he yelled, the demon's prolonging smirk only enraging him further. "You try losing both your parents so young you can't even remember them, and your only friend is a flying, green bunny who's invisible to everyone but me!" the teenager flung one arm out to point out of the window at the village below. "And, to top it all off, every old superstitious fucker down there thinks I'm a bloody witch and hates my guts!"

By this stage, his shoulders were shaking, and Francis could tell that his little outburst had been pent up inside him for years, and that the demon had, so far, only seen a reflection of what this boy felt.

If he had a heart still, Francis may have comforted Arthur, hugging him and whispering soothing French to him. But he was a demon now, so he stood still, watching the other silently. Both of them didn't break the quiet for a while, listening to the sounds of a thunderstorm that had followed after Arthur's yells. Finally, Francis laughed, a sound that cut through the silence like a merciless knife.

"Is that all? Are you finished, Arthur?" he asked, and Arthur only looked at him in disbelief. He knew Francis was a demon, but he had never known anyone to be that heartless before, even to him.

"W-What?" he asked shakily, glaring at the demon.

"I asked if you were done feeling sorry for yourself, _mon cher_~" Francis was looking at him with an unreadable expression, however his eyes told Arthur that there was more to this demon than meets the eye. The teenager was rather thrown by the blunt effect of the demon's words, and opened his mouth with the intention of retorting, only to close it again when he couldn't think of anything to say.

"W-What the hell?" he finally managed, giving Francis a look of utter disbelief.

The demon chuckled. "You should choose your words more carefully when you're trying to be serious with me, _mon âme_. I can only assume you're making a joke – "

"Shut up!" Arthur cut him off rather rudely, and Francis' eyes narrowed. "I'm sick of your smartass _bullshit_!"

"Watch your tongue, boy. Did you forget you were speaking with a demon?" Francis clicked his fingers and suddenly Arthur felt invisible hands at his throat, cutting off his oxygen and the teenager gasped and struggled for breath, clawing at the hands that seemed to be there but not coming in contact with anything. The demon smirked, seeming to enjoy seeing Arthur struggle for the air that was so precious to these petty little humans. Arthur's eyes were widening and his face was turning a darker shade as he writhed in the invisible but powerful grasp, and Francis would've happily killed him there and then, for the boy was only a nuisance to him. However, the demon knew he couldn't kill Arthur, as he still had an outstanding contract with him. Francis let out a sigh, as if he was bored with this pathetic toy, and waved his hand in dismissal, causing Arthur to be thrown to the side, his shoulder crashing into the hard, stone wall. Francis saw a trickle of blood make its way dramatically down Arthur's forehead where the teenager's head had been jolted from the impact, and emerald eyes slowly closed as Arthur slipped from consciousness. The demon only groaned.

_They are such weak beings…_

XxX

Arthur woke as something cool was placed on his head with care, and he dragged his eyes open as if his eyelids had suddenly become much heavier. He sat up, to be greeted with an almost peculiar sight. There were a great many books that Arthur had never laid eyes on before, stacked on the small desk that his sorry excuse for a bedroom accommodated. He only described it as that because it held a gloomy, gothic atmosphere and reminded Arthur of how lonely and depressing his life was. Quickly shaking the self-pitying thought from his mind, Arthur shifted slightly in his bed to see the spines of some of the books, but he wasn't near enough to read the titles properly.

"_Oh, good. You're awake_~" A chirpy, familiar voice greeted him. Arthur angled his head gingerly to look in the direction of the voice, and he saw the mint-green bunny who had vanished before, retreating from placing a damp cloth on his head for him.

"Mint?" the teenager smiled, happy to see his friend again. "Where did you disappear to?" he reached up gently, and the friendly creature nuzzled his fingers affectionately.

"_I was returned to my home…" _she stated thoughtfully, before her eyes widened in realisation, and she flapped her wings angrily. "_You did it, didn't you? You summoned the demon! I told you not to, Arthur_!"

"I-I know but…I didn't think it would work – " he began to plead his case, before there was a sudden, brief chill in the air, and Arthur turned to the door to see Francis leaning against the doorframe. Mint squeaked and darted behind Arthur's shoulder, not liking the demonic presence that Arthur did not seem to feel as pressuring as other creatures did. The demon smirked at this, his startling blue eyes boring holes into the delicate creature's mind, and Mint trembled before ducking behind Arthur completely.

"You…" the teenager tensed up at seeing Francis in his house so casually, watching him with a silent-but-deadly look in his eyes.

"Who else were you expecting, _endormi_?" the French demon replied sarcastically, finding amusement in the furrowing of Arthur's brows at the mocking nickname. Clearly the teenager was still a little sour about Francis' actions before, and if looks could kill and Francis could be killed that way, then he'd be dancing in the hellfire forever more.

The demon merely shook off his gaze and gestured to the pile of books he had been collecting while Arthur was unconscious. "Catch up on your research. There's some information about your family in there."

"Wait, couldn't you just tell me?" Arthur queried, and Francis raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"You asked for the information, but you did not specify how. This way is more work for you, more fun for _moi_~" Arthur was about to say something in protest but the demon gave an almost inhuman grin, and Arthur stopped uncertainly. The teenager got up slowly, unsure of how much his head would protest about it, but he reached the desk and sat down again, Mint hovering behind him to avoid the demon's stare. As he turned the first page of an old book, the chilling gush of wind came from the doorway, and Arthur looked up to see the Frenchman no longer standing there. He sighed and groaned; _stupid bloody demons_.

"_Arthur, look_~" Mint darted around him and nudged the edge of the book with a paw.

Arthur followed her gesture and saw that the pages had been turned by the wind, and now the book lay open on a double-spread page of something that didn't look very relevant. There was an amateur sketch of a plant on the left page, bearing resemblance to rosemary or something, and Arthur was about to turn the page when Mint squeaked.

"_Wait!_"

"What is it?" he asked in alarm, pausing where he was going to turn the page.

"_Look! That's like the bush in our garden! It's the one that your mother used!_" Arthur peered at the illustration, realising that Mint was right – it did resemble the bush under the kitchen window quite a bit.

"But how does that help us with anything?" the teenager all but whined, already growing impatient with the vague hints that Francis was dropping him.

"_Read the page!"_ Mint too was becoming impatient, and padded the third paragraph insistently with her foot.

Arthur huffed but did as he was told, reading aloud. "The _et vocavit vitae _herb is rumoured in legends to be used for summoning ancient creatures to do one's bidding." Arthur gave a sideways glance to Mint, who was waiting for him to continue. "The creature summoned is bound by the one who summoned it until they have fulfilled the wish of the one who called them and are released."

He sat back and Mint frowned, trying to piece together information already.

"So it's a summoning plant. Did mother use it to summon you?" Arthur looked at Mint, his brow also furrowed in thought. Mint shook her head.

"_I was called with a different, nicer spell and I am not being kept against my will. She never bound me, so I was free to come and go when I pleased._"

"So, if she was growing her own herbs instead of buying them, she must've been using it frequently." Arthur concluded, but Mint hummed thoughtfully.

"_Or a lot of it at once, which would mean she was summoning something big that needed to be controlled._"

"But what on earth was my mother trying to summon?"

"I believe I can answer that~" Arthur turned to see Francis stood in the doorway again, this time his hair was down and he looked slightly dishevelled if you looked closely.

There was a look in the demon's eyes that screamed at Arthur that Francis knew something very important, but was not telling him. Arthur narrowed his eyes – he was going to find out sooner or later, and if Francis wasn't careful, Arthur may summon something far worse than a demon.

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**A/N: hello people! Sorry for not updating in a while but I hope this shall suffice!**

**_et vocavit vitae_**** = it was meant to be 'summoning life', but it ended up being 'he called life' (Google Translate) but I thought it sounded cool so I went with it. Obviously not a real plant by the way. **

**PLEASE REVIEW! XD**


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